


I’ll Keep Your Love In a Photograph

by idk_623



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: Alternate Universe - No Squips (Be More Chill), Alternate Universe- Michael and Jeremy aren't friends, If you came for a fairytale ending I’m sorry, Jeremy is a thespian, Jeremy is also pining, M/M, Michael is a liar but he’s scared, Michael is pining so hard, They become friends, michael is a photographer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-16
Updated: 2020-06-03
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 8,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24222739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idk_623/pseuds/idk_623
Summary: “That’s a weird ass reason not to talk to him. Jeremy is like, super nice — if not the nicest. He’s a saint coated in nerves, and you won’t talk to him because you think he’s too good for you?” Rich scolded over the phone, his voice booming through Michael’s phone speakers.Michael’s white-knuckled grip on his steering wheel loosened as he sighed. “It’s easier said than done. What am I supposed to say anyway? ‘Hi, I’m Michael Mell, and I’ve been borderline stalking you for five years’?”
Relationships: Jeremy Heere/Michael Mell
Comments: 62
Kudos: 75





	1. Chapter One

Raising the camera to his eye, Michael squinted needlessly through the lens in the auditorium seat he was occupying. On show days, he’d never be able to get a decent shot, but with the theatre empty, he can get a clear picture without the tops of students’ heads soiling the photo. It was his job to get usable photos of the clubs for the yearbook committee, but somehow when it came down to the theatre club, it didn’t feel like a job.

That’s because there was Jeremy, who didn’t notice him as he gazed longingly through the lens, but still looked perfect in every candid shot. Jeremy, who never faced the camera directly, but still called for every shutter of the camera to be for him. Jeremy, who fumbled his lines during practice, but performed like a true Shakespearean when it really counted. Jeremy, who certainly didn’t know who Michael was, but still captured his heart with every expression.

With a shutter, the camera snapped another picture, once again with Jeremy at center stage. The lights had dimmed slightly just minutes before, and Michael’s new photo showed off a less washed-out Jeremy. His face was much more noticeable, the dimple in his cheek could be seen as he smiled widely to an unknown audience. His arms are outstretched towards the bright lights, his hair stuck to his forehead as sweat ran down his face.

“Wow, that’s actually really good! Do you take classes?” a girl inquired, peering over his shoulder as Michael tried to not drop his very expensive camera in pure shock. He turned to the voice only to be met with bright eyes and an innocent, round face, looking at him expectantly for answers.

“Um, no, not really. Unless yearbook committee counts, then I guess I take ‘classes’,” Michael replied, pressing the power button through muscle memory alone, praying she won’t ask to see the other pictures. He’s sure that if she scrolled through thirty photos of just Jeremy, she would probably get pretty freaked.

“Oh, wow! I didn’t think they’d send someone from the yearbook committee so early, we’ve only had rehearsals for about a week now,” she wondered, pressing a fingertip to her cheek in thought.

“Well, they did,” he laughed awkwardly, shifting in the cushioned yet still stiff seat. He could feel the auditorium getting hotter by the second, but made no move to remove his thick hoodie from his person.

His hoodie was a safety net. With that clothing article, no one would know the figure that he had beneath the cloth. He could be as big as the sumo wrestlers or as thin as the ballerinas they show on television, and no one would know. His hoodie kept everyone else at a distance, away from him and his true thoughts and his true feelings. His hoodie kept him far, far away from Jeremy Heere.

The girl had bounced away after the clear dismissal, calling out to the boy who now sat cross-legged on stage. He gave her one of his smiles as he waved to her, laughing loudly and freely as she almost tripped over her own Mary Janes. Michael wished he hadn’t shut off his camera, he wanted to keep the way Jeremy looked when he laughed in a photograph. If it was just for himself, well, it’s not like anyone would know.

Students filed in moments later into the auditorium, dropping their bags unceremoniously in the first few rows of seats; passing Michael without a second glance in favor of sitting on the stage. Jeremy seemed to light up as everyone greeted him in some fashion, whether it be a wave or a weird handshake that was over a minute long. 

As quickly as the other students stormed the auditorium, their instructor appeared as well, bringing order to the chaos that was the theatre club. Everyone sat along the edge of the stage as they began to rehearse at some point that had Jeremy in the middle of the stage, all lights lowered except for the one on him. The only other person standing was the girl he ran into earlier, slightly off to the side but not neglected like the others were.

Michael quickly turned on his camera, focusing it on the boy who stole the stage with ease. He followed his movements as he began to sing a ballad, only to be joined in by the short girl a verse later. They danced around each other gracefully, their voices blending like honey, or maybe something softer, smoother. He lined up for the shot just as the song ended, his camera clicked, capturing the scene.

Everyone gasped as Jeremy pulled the other girl into a passionate kiss, but Michael was focused on his shot that had occurred moments before. Jeremy was still centered, as always, but his eyes gave away something different, a little more real, as he was frozen in time, always cupping the girl’s face with an easy smile.

Without a moment to lose, he packed his bags and walked straight out of the spacious, muggy auditorium; but not before deleting the picture and watching Jeremy’s smile fade away into nothing but a memory.

<>

“That’s a weird ass reason not to talk to him. Jeremy is like, super nice — if not the nicest. He’s a saint coated in nerves, and you won’t talk to him because you think he’s too good for you?” Rich scolded over the phone, his voice booming through Michael’s phone speakers. 

Michael’s white-knuckled grip on his steering wheel loosened as he sighed. “It’s easier said than done. What am I supposed to say anyway? ‘Hi, I’m Michael Mell, and I’ve been borderline stalking you for five years’?”

A bark of laughter pierced the air as Rich squawked through the phone. Michael felt his nose scrunch in distaste and embarrassment. “Okay, yeah, laugh it up. What would you say if you were me?”

Rich hummed absentmindedly as he thought, Michael worrying his lip, nervously waiting for his response. Maybe it could actually help him, Rich was decently popular, after all. “I would say, ‘Hey, Heere, nice ass. Wanna see what it looks like on my-’”

“-I said if you were me!” He shouldn’t have gotten his hopes up. Rich wasn’t one to take things seriously if he could avoid it. As laughter broke the silence, Michael could envision Rich’s scrunched nose and his cowlick that never stayed in place. The way his eyes crinkled as he laughed, truly laughed, and it made Michael’s anger ebb away. There was something about Rich, probably the familiarity of knowing him for so long, that made his heart at ease.

The laughter slowly died down, and he could tell by Rich’s tone that this was about to be one of those Serious Moments. “Dude, look, Jeremy is a really great guy, and you two have so much in common. There’s no way even you could mess it up.” The teasing tone at the end earned a small chuckle from Michael, but even as they said their goodbyes and hung up, he still couldn’t get the worry out of his head.

He’s heard about Jeremy Heere. He’s seen Jeremy Heere. Hell, he’s even spoken to Jeremy Heere - it was a forced partnership in English class last year but it still counted. He’s never actually tried to get to know Jeremy Heere, though. In person, at least.

Michael has always been more of an observer, and he’s content with what he is. He sees a beautiful person, and maybe he’ll subtly gaze at them from across the lunchroom and admire how the sunlight gives him an angelic look. 

As shitty as he felt, he pulled into the driveway with a smile, taking his camera from the bag and sneaking down to the basement. He sighed as he flopped onto his beanbag, powering his camera on.

Michael found himself doing this little ritual every night, and tonight was no different. He would go downstairs to flip through his pictures and choose the best ones to keep from the day. If he happened to linger a little longer on the ones that included Jeremy Heere, he didn’t notice.

As he flipped through them, he paused at one that, of course, starred Jeremy Heere. This time, though, he hadn’t meant to take a picture of him, he just happened to get in the view.

The sun was just setting, and for once, Jeremy was alone. He was looking up at the sky with a mixed expression, but his eyes still glittered all the same. It looked perfectly posed, because of course it did, and Jeremy looked perfectly Jeremy.

Michael bit the inside of his cheek, trying to squash the icky feelings that fluttered in his stomach. Jeremy would be the death of him, and what a sweet death that would be.


	2. ‘Possibility’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy wasn’t sure why it started happening, but he sure as hell remembered when.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To everyone who left kudos, commented, and bookmarked my story: Thank you, and this chapter is for you.

Jeremy wasn’t sure why it started happening, but he sure as hell remembered when. Every Monday since his mother decided to up and leave, he found a photograph in his locker. Sometimes of the sky, sometimes of plants, sometimes of animals, and sometimes of nothing other than an empty theatre.

He remembered the first time a photograph fluttered out of his locker, the elegant oranges and pinks that filled the picture. The way that the clouds looked like bits of cotton candy with the lake below glimmering at the setting sun. It was, without a doubt, beautiful.

Jeremy had flipped the picture over, reading the singular word ‘Believe’ scrawled on the back. He wasn’t sure if it was the name of the picture or if someone was telling him to believe, but he found himself believing in himself more than he ever had.

It meant the world to him, it felt like a secret between him and someone else. Someone who really saw him, who noticed the real him. He kept every picture in his locker, taping them up so he could see them each time he went to shove his backpack into his locker.

Maybe that was why he started looking forward to Mondays instead of dreading them. He started having more life in him on Monday mornings, practically sprinting to his locker as soon as he arrived at school. It was the best part of his day, possibly even his week, to receive the one-sided messages.

As another photograph fell from his locker, he didn’t try to bite back a smile. Gingerly picking it up, he inspected the photo, gasping. It was lovely, as always, but this time, a person was in the photo. Not just any person, but himself. He clearly had photobombed the picture, and yet, it looked like the perfect candid. The relaxed expression that was drawn across his features, the script that was tucked against his chest, the sunlight that haloed his unruly curls.

On the back, the word ‘Distraction’ was written in a bright blue pen.

And a distraction it truly was. Jeremy couldn’t focus on his classes without thinking about the photo, a small blush dusting across his cheeks every time his mind wandered. It was delicious torture, knowing that he had been so close to his mystery friend and yet so far away.

It even kept him occupied during lunch, where he would normally be laughing at Christine’s musical puns, he found himself scanning the lunchroom. Jeremy knew he wouldn’t be able to spot the person, but he hoped that once he saw them, he would just know.

He glanced over the different tables filled with different cliques, everyone else invested in their own lives and their own drama. Except for one, who always seemed to stay on the outside of everything. He was the type of person who was never brought into anything, and he seemed content that way.

‘Anti-social camera kid’, Chloe had named him, stuck to himself. He sat alone, eating gas station sushi while messing with his camera, a journal next to him that he would jot a note down in every once in a while. People let him be, at Chloe’s insistence. Jeremy wasn’t exactly sure why, but it was rumored that he takes photos of Chloe for her to post on her Instagram.

“-and we need to find some photos for the drama club recruitment- Jeremy? Are you even listening to me?” He apologetically turned back to Christine, rubbing the nape of his neck. She sighed and put on her motherly voice, “Jeremy, you need to focus. This is due by the end of the week, and no, we can’t push it back another week.”

“Right, yes. Photos. I’ve got it covered,” he assured, giving her an awkward smile and finger guns. He felt terrible that Christine was having to pick up his slack since he was too busy daydreaming about some person that he didn’t even know. Who even starts liking someone they’ve never met?

“Well, there’s this guy, Michael, who is amazing at photography. I met him last Friday, sorta,” she ended lamely, trailing off as she thought over her next words. Jeremy knew that it wasn’t because the next sentence was difficult to say, she just had to take a second to piece together her thoughts. “You should go ask him if he’ll take some pictures, or at least forward the best theatre photos over to us. He was taking pictures the other day, I’m sure he got a few good ones we could use.”

Pushing down his anxiety that wanted to crawl out and staple him to his seat, he swallowed harshly and shuffled over to Michael’s table. It was quieter over where he sat, and he could see while Michael liked it so much. It was the perfect spot to be alone and do work, which was probably what he was trying to do, and Jeremy was about to intrude on that.

Dispeling that train of thought, he sat across from Michael, smiling as the other boy slipped off his headphones and looked at him curiously. Quickly, before he lost his attention, Jeremy began rambling, “Hey, I’m Jeremy from the theatre department and we were wondering if you had any good photos of theatre activities that you would be willing to forward to-”

“-Sure.” Huh, that was easier than he thought it would be. And a lot less talking, too. Which, in hindsight, was probably for the best, since Jeremy wasn’t exactly the best at keeping his mouth shut.

“So, um, here’s my number-” he reached into his pocket for a scrap of paper and quickly wrote his number onto it with the pen that he always had on him, just in case “-and you can text me. The- uh- pictures and whatnot. O-or just in general, that’s cool, too.” He received only a small grunt of affirmation, and Jeremy felt like he was thrown into a brick wall. He had thrown himself out there and this guy just didn’t seem to care. Embarrassed, he quickly retreated to his own table, spending the rest of the lunch looking anywhere but Michael’s corner.

<>

Later that day, sometime after rehearsal, a text message from an unknown number pinged on his phone with the attachment of roughly twenty photos. Even without him explicitly texting it, Jeremy knew it was Michael with the photos. They were absolutely gorgeous, too, better than the professional photographer that they paid to come in and photograph the shows. They were, for the lack of a better term, perfect.

Jeremy expected that to be the only and last time he would hear from Michael, but roughly ten minutes later, his phone chimed again with another photo attachment and a simple, ‘what do u think’. Excitement buzzed under his skin as he clicked on the photo, enlarging it to get a better view. The front of the retro arcade in the downtown area filled the screen, the neon lights of the sign blending in with the streetlamps, the sun long gone. People were filtering in and out of the building, from little boys who held their mothers’ hands to teenagers who had their arms slung around each other, doubled over in laughter. It made Jeremy wish he was there, that he could’ve seen it in person. That he could’ve experienced it himself and smelt the air and heard the sounds and-

‘It looks amazing!!’ he typed back, dulling his emotions slightly. He didn’t want to scare Michael away just as he was trying to open up to him. He waited for what felt like hours for a response, and he was more disappointed than he had the right to be when he never received one. It hurt, but he was sure Michael was probably busy. Or not, and it didn’t really matter anyway. Jeremy was technically not his best friend or anything, so Michael didn’t have to text him back.

Still, that didn’t stop him from sending a ‘good morning!’ message the next day, and greeting him in the halls. He was determined, now, to become Michael’s friend, even if it seemed practically impossible.

He remembered, though, the photograph of a patch of lilies, dew clinging onto the delicate petals. It was one of his favorites that the mystery friend gave him, not because it was stunning, but because of the word that was written on the back.

‘Possibility’.


	3. ‘Opportunity’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy Heere was a drug. An adorable, addictive drug, and Michael was so fucked.

Jeremy Heere was a drug. An adorable, addictive drug, and Michael was so fucked. Before, he’d let himself have a few glances at Jeremy; but now, with Jeremy throwing himself at him, he didn’t know what to do. So, he did what anyone in his shoes would do.

He ignored him, hoping that he would drive him away while wishing that he would stay. It had only been a week and he was already used to the way Jeremy would text him random things at even more random times, and how his eyes would light up when he saw Michael in the hallway. And, fuck, the way that Jeremy would say his name sent shivers down his spine.

He watched from the corner of his eye as Jeremy opened his locker, a photo falling into his waiting hands. He’d never stuck around to see his reaction, but this new closeness that Jeremy had thrust upon him left him wanting more. He didn’t miss the way that Jeremy’s features softened, a smile that was so real forming on his lips.

Jeremy Heere was a drug, and Michael was overdosing. He was all that Michael could think about as he sat by himself, attempting to not watch Jeremy walk into the lunchroom surrounded by a gaggle of people. He rolled his eyes at how pathetic he was acting, picking at his lunch with no real attempt to actually eat it.

“Michael! Hey,” Jeremy chirped, sitting across from him. It took everything he had not to jump out of his seat in pure terror, because wasn’t he just across the lunchroom a few moments ago? His heart raced as he looked up, Jeremy’s expression almost blindingly joyous, and he couldn’t do it. He couldn’t ignore him when he was so close, so vulnerable with his stupidly adorable curly hair. Michael wanted to run his fingers through it, he wanted to see if it was really soft as it looked in his photos.

“Hey.” It was one word, but Jeremy’s reaction was so wholesome, it looked as if he’d just won the lottery. Was this boy really that keen on getting to know Michael, the school’s nobody?

“Hey,” he parroted, “I was wondering if you wanted to hang out. I have this one place that I think would be an amazing photo spot and I thought I could take you if you like.” Jeremy was almost out of breath from rambling as fast as he could, and Michael was such a goner.

“Sure.” Michael was so fucked.

<>

Michael was in his car, watching as Jeremy jumped out from the passenger seat and threw his arms up with a laugh. The wind whipped around him, his cardigan flowing behind him as his curls flopped every which way. Michael couldn’t help but laugh as Jeremy spun around, the seabreeze pushing his hair in his face as he beckoned Michael to come join him. Without giving himself a moment to hesitate, he grabbed his camera and followed Jeremy.

By the time he locked up the car, Jeremy had already discarded his shoes and socks, his cardigan folded up neatly beside them. He was climbing a large pile of rocks, waving to Michael with a laugh. He was beautiful, perched on top of the world, the sun sinking behind him, the waves lapping gently at the stone.

Out of habit, he lifted his camera, snapping a picture as Jeremy faced the ocean, a wide, blissful grin on his lips.

“Are you going to join me or what?” Jeremy teased, his words carried through the wind, and Michael didn’t stop himself from removing his shoes and following Jeremy. As he helped him up, Michael felt his stomach flutter at his touch, wishing he could capture the feeling in a photograph. He wanted nothing more than to revisit this moment over and over, Jeremy at his side, smiling at him.

“You know,” Jeremy began, sitting down and facing toward the setting sun, “you remind me of someone. I don’t even know their name, which sounds ridiculous, I know, but I feel like I know them better than anyone else.” He bit his lip, as if deciding whether to continue or not. Michael sat down beside him, mimicking Jeremy and looking out toward the ocean, ignoring the way that Jeremy turned toward him. “They really helped me through a lot. This is gonna sound crazy, I know, but someone has been leaving photographs in my locker for a long time. Really beautiful ones, at that.”

Michael kept his outer appearance the same, but he was panicking on the inside. Shit, this is why he wanted to hangout. He figured it out and was about to call him out to tell him he didn’t feel the same way. Michael hummed in response, feeling like he covered his panic up decently well.

“And, I don’t know, since you’re really good at photography and stuff I was wondering-” this was it, Michael thought, this was how he died from pure embarrassment “-if you knew anyone in the yearbook committee or something who would do something so sweet.” Oh.

Michael could work with this, sure. He coughed awkwardly, picking at his peeling nail polish. “Oh, um- totally- but I’m sure he wouldn’t want me to-”

“No, I get it,” Jeremy interrupted, a sad look flashing across his eyes, gone as soon as it came. He perked up, bumping his shoulder with Michael’s. “But I did get you to tell me that you knew him, and that it’s a he. Maybe I can sweet-talk you into telling me who he is.”

Fuck, Michael wanted to just tell him right then and there. It would be picture perfect, and maybe Jeremy would lean in and kiss him and tell him he loved him, too. That’s what would’ve happened, he was sure, if only he was braver.

However, he left with nothing more than a few memories and photos, and a heavy heart at what was nothing more than a missed opportunity.


	4. ‘Infatuation’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jeremy might be starting to have feelings for Michael Mell, too.

Jeremy sat on the swing on a warm Sunday evening, kicking his legs back and forth lazily as he watched Michael photograph the ducklings that were waddling next to the pond. It had been a while since he was able to pry the little bit of information from Michael, and he’s been a steel trap ever since. Although he has opened up more to Jeremy, he closes off whenever Jeremy mentions anything about the photographs. As much as he wanted to go snooping around himself, he decided to respect Michael’s and his mystery friend’s decision on anonymity. But that doesn’t mean he wasn’t going to bother Michael about it every single day until he gave in.

“On a scale of one to ten, how hot is he?” Jeremy asked, giggling as Michael glared at him from where he was perched, trying to get the perfect angle. Jeremy had figured out that this method gave him the highest chance of actually getting Michael to respond to the question. He didn’t even have to explain who ‘he’ was anymore, Michael already knew who Jeremy was talking about.

“Like a solid four on good days,” he shot back, snapping a few photos. Jeremy debated on photobombing, but he was afraid Michael would kick his ass, or worse, drive home without him. He hated walking home alone, it was just so boring.

“How funny is he?” He’s asked this question multiple times before, but Michael’s answer always changed depending on his mood.

“At least an eight.” The camera clicked a few more times, and he frowned at the screen, clearly unhappy with the photos.

“How much would I like him- wait no- how much does he like me?” He shyly asked, almost wishing he could take back the words, afraid of what Michael would say. There was a long pause before his answer, and each second that passed in silence only made Jeremy want to crawl in a hole and die more.

“You’re his favorite person,” Michael murmured, snapping one last photo before giving it a hum of approval. That one sentence sent Jeremy’s heart soaring, his face flushing a bright red. He was glad Michael was focused on something other than him, he didn’t want to have to explain his complexion to his friend.

“Anyway,” Jeremy piped up, the silence making him feel as if the whole world could hear his heartbeat, “Do you think that you could give this to him?” He held out a note to Michael, folded like a small secret, and added as he took it, “Don’t look at it, though, please.”

“Sure, dork,” Michael laughed, tucking the paper into his pocket. It was these small moments that made Jeremy smile, really smile. Michael had opened up to him so much, from the way he would joke around to the way they would exchange texts at ungodly hours in the morning. They’d even gotten high together once, which was a complete trainwreck, but Jeremy couldn’t help but look back fondly at the mess that was their friendship.

The two of them climbed back into Michael’s car, and as he showed Jeremy some of the photos he took with an excitable energy, he couldn’t help but focus on the way Michael would look at him. He was always so vulnerable like this, his eyes searching for approval from Jeremy, and he wanted nothing more than to show him just how amazing he was. How much he admired him for daring to be himself in an environment that tried its hardest to conform him into something else. Jeremy was sure he could never do something as brave as that, being in theatre was the extent of his courage.

“How do you do it?” Jeremy blurted, interrupting Michael’s rant about editing and how much of a necessary pain it was.

“Editing? Well, usually, I-”

“-No, how do you not care what anyone else thinks?” Michael’s nose scrunched up in thought as he played with the cord of his bulky headphones, a Michael-esque nervous tick.

“Well, I guess that’s because I only care what one person thinks,” he admitted with a shrug, a shadow of a smile playing at his lips. Jeremy felt guilty at the way his stomach flopped and his heart sped up, wondering if he was cheating on his crush, even though they weren’t together. After all, it wasn’t Michael who had been there during some of the toughest times.

He swallowed his feelings, resolving to stop the blooming crush with Michael the best he could. His anonymous friend deserved the chance to know how he felt before he started pursuing others. It’s not like he’d have to wait too long, as soon as Michael delivered the note, he would know how Jeremy felt.

Jeremy was putting all his eggs in one basket, but for him, he was willing to do anything. Those photographs and words of encouragement kept him going when he thought he couldn’t. He felt the photograph in his pocket that had carried with him today for strength, not even having to look at it to feel calmer.

It was of the place that Jeremy had taken Michael, where Michael first admitted to knowing Jeremy’s friend. It was beautiful, the fact that he went out of his way to photograph Jeremy’s spot after Michael had told him about it. Jeremy fell harder for the guy the more he thought of him, the word written on the back running through his mind on repeat.

‘Infatuation’.


	5. ‘Reality’

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kiss kiss fall in love

Michael felt his face heat up as Jeremy bounded up to him, linking his arm with his own. He already knew what the question those big, blue eyes were asking before it left his lips, but he let him have the satisfaction of asking. “So, what did he say? Did he tell you? Does he want to tell me?” His last question was a little more sheepish than the rest, his eyes dropping to the floor in embarrassment for a split second.

Michael’s heart ached, he was so close, he could just say it. He knew what Jeremy had written in the note, because technically, it had been meant for him. He knew that Jeremy had a crush on him, or at least, on the idea of him. He wasn’t sure if things would stay the same when he revealed himself to be the guy that Jeremy was so attached to.

So, like a coward, he lied, “He said that he’s flattered, but doesn’t feel the same way. He just started doing it because he saw how sad you were.” Michael’s heart shattered at the way that Jeremy’s face fell, but it was better this way. It was better for him to protect his feelings and Jeremy’s dignity.

“Oh.” It was one word, but Michael heard the pain that was laced in it. He heard the heartbreak, the frustration, the tears he was holding back.

“I’m sorry, Jeremy.” He meant it, too. He was sorry that it was him and not this knight in shiny armor that Jeremy had fallen in love with. He was sorry that he couldn’t even admit that it was him. He was sorry he wasn’t anything more than the stoner who was decent at his photography hobby.

Jeremy wiped his eyes, drying them before the tears even had a chance to fall, chuckling, “It’s alright, Michael. I kinda saw this coming. I was stupid think he liked me, you know?” Michael wanted to beat himself up, to hold Jeremy and tell him it’s not stupid because he does. He really, really likes him, maybe to the point where he even loves him, if this is what love was.

But Michael just nodded, patting Jeremy’s arm comfortingly, a pitying expression on his face.

<>

“I just- I don’t know what I did wrong, you know?” Jeremy sobbed, passing the blunt to Michael with shaky hands. His basement was heavy with smoke since Michael decided that inviting Jeremy over for a few hits was a good idea. Jeremy waved away the smoke that hung around his head, wiping his eyes with his free hand. “I did everything I could, and he wouldn’t even give me a chance.”

“He’s an idiot,” Michael remarked, almost laughing at how true that statement was. He really was a fucking idiot. Here was his crush of five years, crying in his basement because he rejected him, only he didn’t technically reject him. Sort of. Michael slowly took another hit, hoping the weed would cloud his mind enough so he would stop trying to make sense of his shit life.

“I-I’m so thankful for you, you know. It’s like you really see me, the real me,” he blabbered on, breathing smoother than before. He had cried himself out, it seemed, and Michael wanted nothing more than to reach over and brush the tears from his cheeks. Before he could think, he was reaching over, wiping his eyes with his thumb, unable to keep the fondness from his face.

“Of course I see you, Jeremy. You’re amazing.” The way Jeremy looked at him was too much, too vulnerable, too Jeremy. He retreated back, pulling away as he fidgeted with the hem of his hoodie, joking, “You’re also amazing at being second place in Mario Kart.” The moment was broken as Jeremy laughed, shoving his shoulder lightly.

“That’s a low blow, man.” And then suddenly Jeremy was really close, looking at him with the most serious expression he’s ever seen in his life. “Did you mean it?” he murmured, his eyes studying Michael’s face, “Do you really see me? The real me?”

They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and yet here Michael was, rich in photographs and empty in words. As Jeremy looked into his eyes, searching, hoping, Michael couldn’t do it anymore. He couldn’t lie to himself, to Jeremy.

He grabbed Jeremy’s curls, and pulling him in, he pressed a soft kiss to his lips. So delicate and faint, Michael wasn’t even sure if he really kissed him or not. “I’ve always seen the real you, Jeremy,” he admitted, his breath ghosting over Jeremy’s lips before closing the gap once again. It was perfect, feeling Jeremy against him like this, running his fingers through his hair. Which, his brain unhelpfully supplied, was as soft as it looked.

Jeremy, always the braver, deepened the kiss, his hands wandering to the zipper on Michael’s hoodie, slowly unzipping it. “Is this alright?” he whispered, still for just a moment so Michael could answer. With a nod, he let Jeremy take his hoodie, his safety net, his armor, off. He couldn’t remember the last time he took it off in front of anyone beside his moms, and yet, he felt completely at peace.

He felt like he could jump into Jeremy and everything he had to offer and he would be there to catch him. He wasn’t worried as Jeremy’s fingers trailed along the nape of his neck, pulling him impossibly closer. If this is what love felt like, he wanted to hate himself for waiting so long, but all he could do was try to make up for all the time he lost.

Suddenly, he was kissing Jeremy’s neck, not really knowing if he was doing it right but spurred on by Jeremy’s reactions. His hands were slipping beneath his shirt, tugging it over Jeremy’s head as he dragged the boy to his bed.

With Jeremy beneath him, his heart soared, a gleeful smile spreading across his lips. A part of him itched to reach for the camera and take a picture, simply because it was Jeremy and Jeremy was beautiful. Instead, he pressed a soft kiss to his lips, deciding, for once, to live in reality.


	6. ‘Heartbreak’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry I went AWOL for a week, I got super sick and busy, so writing was the last thing on my mind.

Michael was everything that Jeremy had wanted and more. He was imperfect in the best of ways, from the way he drives a little too slow with Jeremy in the car to the way he sings along to Whitney Houston off-key. Michael was Michael and Jeremy was Jeremy, and they just belonged. At least, that’s what the romantic side of Jeremy insisted.

In his opinion, the past few months with Michael have been the greatest in Jeremy’s life. If only he could perfect his role for the play, then it would be perfect.

“Do it again, Jeremy. You are heartbroken, act like it,” Mr. Reyes scolded, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. They’ve had to run the end of Act One five times already, and everyone was getting a bit restless. “Christine just left you for another man, even after you gave her your everything. Show the audience the pain that the Phantom feels, or else you’re going home.”

Jeremy watched as Christine and Jake began their duet again, nailing it to no one’s surprise. He was shaking slightly from under the stage, waiting for his cue to climb out. He thought of his most painful memory as he went through the motions. He sang to his mother, who had left without a trace, trying to put all that emotion into his acting.

Yet, he couldn’t stop the thought of Michael holding him, kissing away the tears that streamed down his face. He fought the pained smile that began to play at his lips, covering his face in what he hoped seemed like grief. As he finished, he looked out to Mr. Reyes with an awkward smile, hoping that his performance was good enough.

“We’ll run that again tomorrow, you better fix it by then. The show is in one week, Jeremy. I can’t have you just now trying to figure out your character.” Jeremy felt his face flush with embarrassment, retreating to backstage with his tail between his legs. He felt a hand on his shoulder, small and familiar, and there she was. Christine, the ever present comforter, telling him that it’ll be okay without having to speak. He gave her a weak smile, weaving through the chorus members and techies to get to his dressing room.

<>

Usually, Jeremy didn’t mind tech week, but Mr. Reyes was being harsher on him than usual. Which, to be fair, he understood, but that didn’t stop him from crying into Michael’s arms as soon as they got to his house. It was the warm feeling of home that caused him to collapse, letting Michael support him as they went to his basement, whispering sweet nothings along the way.

“Hey, Jer, it’s gonna be alright. It’s probably just because of the stress that he’s saying that,” Micahel assured, holding him close as he ran his fingers through his hair. Jeremy sniffled against him, his muscles relaxing as the last few tears slipped down his cheeks, dripping onto Michael’s hoodie. “After all, you’re the best actor and singer I know.”

“You sure?” It was pathetic, how small his voice sounded, but the thoughts in the back of his mind begged him to ask, to know for sure. Michael, always knowing when Jeremy was slipping into his anxious state, just pressed a small kiss to his forehead. That one action reassured Jeremy in a way words couldn’t, like the way a mother would kiss her child’s scrape and the pain would go away.

“Sleep, Jeremy. I’ll be right here.” His voice was filled with warmth as he pulled the blankets over Jeremy and himself, the two cuddling close. It was nice to spend the night with Michael after a particularly difficult day; it made it so much easier to fall asleep. The sound of his heartbeat, the scent of his laundry detergent, the feel of his skin against his own, it was everything to Jeremy.

Before he could even realize he fell asleep, he was waking up to the sound of Michael walking up the creaking stairs, obviously trying to not wake him. Jeremy couldn’t help but grin at his attempt to care for Jeremy, sitting up with a yawn. He felt better than he had last night, but he wasn’t surprised. Michael had this effect on him, he was able to make any situation, no matter how terrible, a good one.

As Jeremy scanned the room lazily, his eyes caught on the soft, bright fabric of Michael’s hoodie, thrown across the edge of the bed. Not even trying to resist the temptation, he grabbed and slipped it on with a sigh. It smelled exactly like him, and it was no wonder Michael liked it so much; it was extremely soft. He stuck his hands in the pockets with a chuckle, wondering if he looked as good in it as Michael did.

His fingers brushed against a folded piece of paper and he pulled it out without a second thought. It was probably just some of his photography notes he was always writing down that Jeremy could never decipher, but he opened it anyway. As he read the first line, his heart stopped.

It was his note, the one he had given Michael to give to the picture guy. He felt so stupid as he crumpled his own words in his hand, practically ripping Michael’s hoodie off him. He couldn’t tell who he was more disgusted with, Michael or himself. He wanted to punch him in his stupid, gorgeous, lying face for decieving him. How could he not deliver the note, after everything that Jeremy had told him?

Throwing his things together, he stomped up the stairs, only to be met with a confused Michael at the top of them. “Jeremy?” Shit, he was a better actor than Jeremy could ever be. “What’s wrong?”

“I know, Michael.” It was harsh, the way he shoved the note at him, but he didn’t care. He was in tears and it all built into this rage that poured out of him. “I can’t believe you, taking advantage of me like that. You’re- I don’t even have words for how furious I am at you. Just- go fuck yourself. We’re over.” He was dangerously calm as he walked out of his house, leaving Michael.

He went to school less enthusiastic than normal, not even bothering to pay attention to his classes. He was unfocused at lunch, his gaze drifting toward the empty table that Michael usually sat at. Jeremy wondered where he was, knowing he wasn’t supposed to care. No one questioned his mood, suspecting it was most likely because of the treatment he had received the day before due to his performance.

Jeremy, however, nailed the heartbreak in his role, bringing the entire cast and crew to tears as he broke down on stage. He had to thank Michael for something, he supposed; he retaught him true heartbreak. At least, if he was going to be unloved, he could do it while putting on a good show. That’s what he wanted, in fact. To be anyone but himself.


	7. ‘Truth’

Michael had long ago stopped crying, opting to just stare at the ceiling instead, his headphones blasting some song that he truthfully wasn’t listening to. He couldn’t describe how he felt, perhaps due to the fact he felt nothing at all. It was an eerily empty feeling, his breaths so laborious that even the thought of doing anything else made him want to pass out.

After all this, it unraveled in a mere minute. Michael knew he should’ve thrown that note away, knew that it would only cause trouble, but he could never bring himself to do it. It was meant for him, so why should he have to discard it?

He cursed himself for being so foolish, for thinking that he could be selfish for once. Michael Mell wasn’t the person for Jeremy Heere, no matter how much he wished he was. He wasn’t this mighty protector, he couldn’t even save himself from his own thoughts. He breathed heavily, willing the tears that pricked at his eyes to fall down his cheeks. If he cried, he’d feel better.

He needed to be better. For whom, he didn’t know. He just knew that he wasn’t good enough for anyone if he wasn’t even good enough for himself.

Michael contemplated doing something drastic, but he waved it away as soon as the thought appeared. Whether he believed it or not, it wouldn’t improve anything. Instead, he grabbed his keys, wiped his eyes and fixed his hair, determined to, at the very least, give Jeremy what he deserved. The utter truth.

<>

To be fair, after having time to think, Michael was less certain about the whole “coming clean” thing. How was he even supposed to talk to Jeremy without him just shutting him out? Not that he didn’t deserve it, but it made things much more difficult. So, like all brilliant teenagers, he decided to break into Jeremy’s dressing room and confront him there. It was a flawless plan, really.

He was tempted to smoke, just a bit, so he wouldn’t feel so anxious. His will won out, though, and he was making his way to Jeremy, terrified but sober.

As soon as he snuck into the room, he regretted it. Michael had been hoping that Jeremy was on stage, but here he was, head in his hands as he cried softly. He debated on leaving and trying again tomorrow, but by doing that, he was only proving that people don’t change.

Frozen in place, Jeremy made the decision for him, as he does. He lifted his head, spotting Michael in the mirror and letting out an undignified squeak. “Michael? Why’re you here?”

“I need to-”

“-Wait, forget it,” Jeremy interrupted, his shock morphing into anger, “Just get out. I don’t want to talk to you.” He stood, making his way to Michael as if to leave the room. In desperation, Michael stepped in front of him, preventing him from leaving.

“I know, but please, hear me out,” he begged, burning in his hoodie even though the room was barely over freezing. Jeremy just huffed, trying to get around Michael, only to be blocked again. “One minute is all I ask.”

“Get out of my way, Michael. You’ve done enough.” The words shot through Michael, piercing him with the amount of hate that Jeremy had laced them with. Swallowing back his tears, he stood his ground, only to see Jeremy hastily wiping his own tears from his blotchy cheeks.

“There’s something you need to know,” he began, his hands itching to pull Jeremy into a hug and to kiss his forehead. If only he could go back in time and fix this.

“That you’re an asshole? News flash, I already know that.”

“No, please, Jeremy-”

“-Just stop, Michael,” he begged, his arms wrapping around himself, comforting him in the way that Michael wished he could. “You knew how I felt about him, and you didn’t bother to give him the note! Why? So you could, I don’t know, screw me?”

“The reason I didn’t give him the note is because I’m him!” Michael blurted, his cheeks flushed with emotion.

“What?” That was all Jeremy said, but his wide eyes and the way a couple of stray tears dropped down his cheeks, asked so much more. Michael wanted to wipe his tears, but he stuffed his hands in his pockets instead, ignoring the way he wished Jeremy would just hug him the way he did last night.

“I- I lied because I was scared of not being the person you hoped I was. Because I’m not that person,” he admitted, staring at Jeremy’s unmanageable curls, avoiding eye contact. “I’ve liked you for so long, I was just-”

“-Scared,” Jeremy finished, his arms loosening slightly around himself. He sighed, his tone full of unwanted understanding. “Michael, I’m still so angry, but I can’t say I don’t get it. I’m going to need time before I can forgive you.”

It was a better answer than Michael had planned for, yet a part of him still hurt. He wanted to be with Jeremy, not just watch his life from the outside. After finally being a part of something for so long, he couldn’t be satisfied with watching from the outside ever again. Michael smiled, telling Jeremy that he could have all the time he needed.

“Friends?” Michael asked, holding out his fist for a light fist bump. Jeremy returned it, the tension in the air melting away into a sweeter feeling.

“Friends.” With that, Michael and Jeremy parted ways, one going home and one going to the stage. Somehow, as he left the building, the sky reminded him of the day when he first saw Jeremy.

He was nothing special, now that he looked back on it. Jeremy was just another scrawny white boy that got overly excited at the mention of Apocalypse of the Damned. Michael didn’t know what it was, but he had been drawn to him, like metal to a magnet. His world seemed to orbit him from that moment on.

Michael lifted his camera, snapping a picture, not even bothering to check it. He knew that even if it was imperfect, it would be just fine. He and Jeremy would be just fine, whether they got back together or not.

And he was okay with that.

**Author's Note:**

> Criticism is welcome :)


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